Happy Chicken Day
by Kaisa
Summary: Sequel to "Thank You" Holidayfic. Sam and Dean have Thanksgiving. Dean remembers how Mary used to love it, and Sam only wishes that he could have spent Thanksgiving with her.


Hi, everyone! This is Kaisa, bringing you a holidayfic. This story is the sequel to "Thank You". You kinda need to read that story to fully understand this one. But I guess it's not completely necessary...

This probably takes place sometime in season two. I was going to write it in season three, but...yeah, I decided against it. Mostly because they had the Christmas episode in that season and it was all about "Dean's last Christmas" and I didn't want this story to become "Dean's last Thanksgiving" because I knew I'd go down the whole "going to hell" storyline. Oh well!

There aren't really any spoilers here! WOWZ!

And I don't own Supernatural. But that's okay, I'm happy with what they're doing right now. Mostly because I love Castiel. !!!

Please enjoy!

* * *

Dean glared at the long line of cars in front of him, wishing, for once, that he and Sam hadn't gone out for a hearty, but not necessarily healthy, breakfast. Because of _course_ they would hit a traffic jam on the way back. They had bad luck like that.

"Why the _hell_ are there so many people here?!" Dean grumbled irritably. "We were here yesterday. At the same time. And the roads were completely empty then! What the hell changed since then?!"

Sam sighed. "It's probably just holiday traffic."

Dean shot him a puzzled look. "What do you mean, _holiday traffic?_" he questioned.

"Um, Dean, today is Thanksgiving, remember?"

Dean frowned for a moment, thinking about it. Thanksgiving? He barely even knew it was November. He thought about it for a second longer before smiling. "Bet they're all out to buy their reduced fat chicken dinners, huh?"

Sam gave him a _'what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about?'_ look. "Uh, Dean, last time I checked, people usually have _turkey_ on Thanksgiving."

Dean laughed. "Oh come _on_, don't tell me you don't remember!"

Sam shook his head in confusion. "I have no idea what you're talking about, man."

"Seriously? That sucks."

Sam stared at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

"It was back when we were younger, Sammy. You used to be _obsessed_ with Thanksgiving. I mean"—Dean shuddered—"scary obsessed." He smiled jokingly.

Sam's eyebrows creased. He thought back on it. He could remember being happy when Thanksgiving rolled around, but he couldn't recall any of the details.

Dean looked over to him, seeing how his brother simply couldn't remember. The smile on his face slowly faded away. Did that mean that Sam also didn't remember what Dean was thankful for? "Well, when you were nine or so, you wouldn't stop bugging me. You kept telling me that it was Thanksgiving, as if you expected me to do something about it." He shrugged. "You wanted to make dinner all by yourself, so we could have a Thanksgiving dinner like everyone else." Dean paused for a moment. "It was one of those little microwavable dinners. Except you made a chicken dinner instead of turkey." Dean smiled as he saw Sam grow embarrassed. "It was nice, you were very cute."

Sam shot him a dirty look. "I was just a little kid! Anyone could have made that mistake!"

Dean gave a small laugh. "When I told you that it was it chicken, you freaked out."

Sam folded his arms across his chest. "Anyone could have made that mistake," he mumbled for the second time. He shook his head. "But you know, I can't remember much about it. I mean, now that you tell me about it, I guess I can remember it a little more… Like, I think I can remember making a cut-out turkey at school."

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Do you remember anything else?"

Sam gave him a questioning look. It almost sounded like there was something important that he was supposed to remember about that day. He thought back hard, but his mind came up blank. "Um, not really?"

Dean licked his lips and stared out of the car, inching ever closer to their motel.

Sam stared at him. "Was there something else that happened that day?"

"Not really," Dean replied plainly.

Sam was silent for a long time. "I remember that Dad didn't like Thanksgiving very much. Is that why we didn't celebrate it when he was around?"

Dean didn't answer him.

"Dean?" Sam pressed.

Dean glanced over to his little brother. "Dad didn't like to celebrate Thanksgiving because… When Mom was alive, she really liked to make a big deal out of it. She always made way too much food. She'd stuff me and Dad with like, ten servings of turkey. She probably woulda stuffed your face with six jars of baby food if she hadn't…" He trailed off for a moment. "I didn't want to celebrate it either. You didn't seem to mind, until you were nine. You suddenly wanted to celebrate it. It took me off-guard for a second there."

"Why didn't you tell me that you didn't want to celebrate Thanksgiving? I probably wouldn't have tried celebrating if I had known…"

"No, it was good that you wanted Thanksgiving. That was normal, right? You were so excited; it kind of reminded me of the Thanksgivings with Mom."

Sam looked out the window. "I…I wish I could've spent a Thanksgiving with Mom," he said quietly.

In spite of Sam's sadness, Dean snorted. He couldn't help himself.

Sam glared at his brother. "What was _that_ for?"

"Sorry, Sammy… It's just that, I remember… The last Thanksgiving we spent with Mom was the only Thanksgiving where we ate the whole meal. I mean, apparently, all the years before that, we had leftovers for _days._ But since Mom was three months pregnant with _you_, she ate enough for like, ten people. Believe me, we _all_ knew you were with us that night." Dean gave a short laugh. "You should've seen Dad's face when he tried going back for seconds and there wasn't anything there to eat."

Sam smiled, just trying to imagine it. But after a moment, he frowned. "Dean, how do you remember so much about it? You were what, three?"

"I actually don't remember too much about it," Dean admitted. "But after Mom… Dad would sometimes…" Dean shook his head. "Sometimes Dad would talk about what it was like _before_. Like, randomly, when I'd least expect it, he'd suddenly go, 'do you remember when your mother would….'" Dean exhaled. "That last Thanksgiving was one of the stories he told me. He told me that Mom was eating so much that he thought she was going to have triplets or something."

Sam snorted and shook his head. "I'm sure she didn't eat _that_ much."

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. I honestly don't remember anything about how much she ate." The only thing Dean remembered clearly about that Thanksgiving night was when his mother leaned in close and whispered, _"I'm thankful for __you__, Dean."_ That one thing had stayed with him for over twenty years. He knew he'd never forget about it.

That's why he was so confused that Sam didn't remember when he had told him the same thing. He guessed that it just didn't mean as much when it came from him.

* * *

A few hours later, Sam was lying in bed. Dean had said that he needed to run out to get something, so he had left a while ago. Sam was surprised that Dean was actually willing to dive back into the holiday traffic.

But after the conversation Sam and Dean had in the car that morning, Sam couldn't stop thinking about how nice it'd be to have a real Thanksgiving. Maybe several years in the future. Maybe by then he'd have a wife and maybe even a kid or two. He couldn't just think that he'd still be hunting that far into the future—mostly because he didn't want hunting to dictate his life. Maybe starting a family was just a fantasy that would never come true. But that thought didn't stop Sam from thinking about it. He'd cut the turkey for his wife… And he'd invite Dean and _Dean's_ family over too. They'd all be together…

"Yeah, one day," Sam said with a sigh, sitting up. As he did so, he spotted John's journal over on the round table in the center of the room. It was a long shot, but maybe there would be some Thanksgiving photos in there. Sam instantly went over and sat at the table, flipping open the worn journal. Sometimes the pictures were hard to find. Sometimes they would be stuck between pages, like bookmarks, but most of the time they were well-hidden.

After twenty minutes of poring over the journal, Sam was getting discouraged. He _had_ found a handful of photos, but none of them were Thanksgiving-related. He was ready to give up when he spotted something.

It was a tiny corner of something sticking out from under one of the newspaper clippings that John had pasted into the journal. It was a photo, Sam was sure of it.

Luckily enough, when John pasted a newspaper clipping or some other type of article into his journal, he only put glue on the corners, so it was relatively easy to slip the photo out from underneath it.

When he set his eyes on the newly-found photo, it triggered something in his mind.

"_I'm thankful for __you__, Sammy."_

Sam's eyes widened. That was right, he remembered. He had seen this picture before—it was what made him want to have a happy Thanksgiving. The picture was of Mary holding Dean, who in turn was holding a small paper cut out of his hand that had been colored to look like a turkey. And, when Sam looked closer, he could definitely tell that Mary was pregnant. His mother and brother were both smiling brightly.

Sam found himself smiling, and flipped the picture over, recognizing his father's handwriting.

_Mary, Dean (3), and Baby. Thanksgiving, '82._

He remembered it all now. He had found this photo and had wished for a happy Thanksgiving. He remembered making that awful chicken for himself and Dean, and even remembered asking Dean what he was thankful for. And Dean had said that Sam was who he was thankful for. Sam couldn't believe he had forgotten that. Maybe _that_ was the important thing that Dean had expected him to remember.

Just as he was thinking about it, Dean came back into the room. He tossed a bag into the kitchen sick to take care of later. "Even the friggin' convenience store was mobbed, man. I thought those kinds of places were supposed to be closed on Thanksgiving, anyway."

"Actually, there are a few stores that are open until the afternoon on Thanksgiving. Mostly because someone always forgets something."

Dean gave him a _'why-the-hell-would-you-even-know-that?' _look.

Sam shrugged. He then remembered the picture in his hand. "Look what I found." And he offered the photo to his brother.

Dean carefully took it from him, stared at it for a few seconds, before handing it back, his face blank. "Mm-hm."

"I found it before, remember? When I was nine. I remember it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "I also remember that I had asked you what you thankful for that day."

"Heh, you kind of threw another fit when I said that I wasn't thankful for anything."

"I guess, but now I remember you saying what you were really thankful for."

Dean rolled his eyes, but was happy that Sam was able to remember. "Yeah, I know," he said, "it was a chick-flick moment."

"I just wanted you to know that I still remember that. That's what you wanted me to remember, right?"

Dean turned away. "You didn't need to remember anything."

"I'm just saying, Dean… Thanks."

Dean gave him a confused look. "For what?"

"For caring."

"Oh God."

Sam smiled. "And I'm still thankful for the same thing as I was all those years ago too."

Dean didn't answer him, but went into their tiny kitchen and picked the bag out of the sink. "You hungry?"

"You went out to get _food?"_ Sam asked, incredulous. "We have _plenty_ of junk here to eat."

Dean pulled out a few microwave dinner boxes. "I was in the mood for chicken." He showed Sam one of the boxes. "See? I even got the reduced fat ones, just like before."

Sam stared at him in disbelief. "What, are you doing this to throw my mistake back in my face or…?"

"No, I just felt like having it. I always liked chicken better than turkey anyway." He ripped open the boxes, took out the dinners, and stacked them on top of each other. "Do you think it's okay if I put all of them in at once?" And before waiting for an answer, Dean shoved all five dinners into the microwave and turned it on.

"Why'd you get _five_ of them?" Sam asked.

Dean looked offended. "I'm hungry."

Sam laughed and shook his head. "So two for me, three for you?"

Dean nodded. "Unless you want more than that?"

"Uh, no thanks, I'm okay."

A few minutes later, when the dinners were done, Dean threw them on the table, and the brothers dug in.

"This is great, Dean, thanks," Sam said after a moment.

Dean looked up at Sam as if he were crazy. "What are you talking about? This stuff tastes terrible."

"No, I know, this stuff sucks."

"Then what?"

"Thanks for doing all this. It really feels like it did back then."

Dean nodded wordlessly.

"But you know, one day I want to have a huge Thanksgiving feast. If I ever start a family…" Sam trailed off. Starting families was just one of the many things that just wasn't discussed between the two of them.

"If you ever do," Dean continued for him, "and if I ever happen to come over to your house on Thanksgiving, I'll cut the chicken for you."

"You mean the turkey."

Dean shook his head. "Uh, no, I mean chicken. Oh, and don't forget to make pie. Lots of pie."

Sam laughed. "Well, okay then."

Dean offered a smile, before taking a bite out of his third chicken dinner. He then raised his beer bottle. "Happy Chicken Day, then."

"Happy Chicken Day, Dean."

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Now I suddenly want to have chicken....

Hope everyone liked that. . . . . . Please review~~! I'll be very thankful for those who do! (Throws anyone who reviews a free turkey!!!) (???)

And for those who are still waiting for me to update Escape, I'M SO SORRY! I'll update it soon, I promise. I had lots of trouble with my computer and almost lost the whole story... (It was very traumatic) Wish me luck with that!


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